Most roadmaps indicate particularly scenic roads, sometimes with a dotted line, sometimes with the highway highlighted in color. Maps of U.S. 89, like the Rand McNally road atlas I keep in my SUV, have such an indication for almost the entire length of the highway’s some 1,460 miles, the only significant exception being the urban region along Utah’s Wasatch Front (which could hardly be considered a bland stretch). In fairness, it should be noted that National Geographic is a little less generous with its scenic designations, but what do they know?

Indeed, seven separate sections of U.S. 89 have been designated "Scenic Byways" by the Federal Highway Administration or by the states in which they are located, and there are other officially designated scenic byways that connect directly to 89.

The four-lane interstate highway system is built for speed and efficiency. Interstate highways certainly go through some pretty country, but that’s not their main purpose. The older U.S. highway system may take the driver a little longer to go from point to point, but, put simply, it’s more fun. There are any number of truly scenic drives in the U.S. highway system from U.S. 7, that bisects Vermont and provides tens of thousands of people access to the fall colors, to U.S. 101, running on or near the Pacific Coast in California, Oregon and Washington. But no U.S. highway has scenery as plentiful and diverse as U.S. 89.

U.S. Highway 89 begins its southern journey at the Canadian border near Carway, Alberta, where the Great Plains meet the Rocky Mountains. It terminates at Flagstaff, Arizona. In between, the highway traverses a diverse series of ecosystems, going from northern alpine to sweeping prairie to the world’s most spectacular collection of geothermal features to arguably North America’s most aesthetically stunning mountain range to urban sophistication, to the grandest canyon of them all.

U.S. 89 runs through or near six national parks -- Glacier, Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Bryce Canyon, Zion, and Grand Canyon. On the north, it begins east of the Continental Divide and travels its final two-thirds west of it -- intersecting in Yellowstone National Park. The six national parks linked by U.S. 89 are some of the Park Service’s most popular. Glacier National Park, with its Going to the Sun Highway and world class scenery and hiking, is only the start. Next is Yellowstone, the world’s first national park and still its most famous. Though certainly well documented, Yellowstone, in its shear size and diversity, remains an adventure for even the most frequent visitor. Moving south along the Snake River, U.S. 89 leads to Grand Teton National Park, with its nearly vertical granite peaks that are some of the most photographed in the world.

U.S. 89 then traverses the heart of cowboy country and crosses the Oregon Trail before running parallel to Utah’s Wasatch Front, home to more than 1 million people and host to the 2002 Winter Games. It then runs the heart of Utah, providing easy access to Bryce Canyon National Park, a series of sandstone amphitheaters with vistas unlike any in the world. Zion National Park is just down the road, the home of sheer sandstone walls and narrow waterways slithering though tight sandstone corridors. The highway also goes through the West’s newest and largest national monument in southern Utah - Grand Staircase-Escalante.

Just south, the Colorado Plateau gives way to the Grand Canyon. U.S. 89 offers access to both the North and South rims of the park. It also passes over the Glen Canyon Dam, which impounds Lake Powell, with more shoreline that the U.S. Pacific coast. Flagstaff, Arizona is where the highway ends, with its mystical and increasingly hip neighbor, Sedona.

U.S. 89 is not the stuff of myth, memorialized in song like Route 66 (which also runs through Flagstaff), nor is it as famous is the Pacific Coast Highway. It’s probably just as well. Part of the charm is the sense of adventure that comes from traveling a road not taken – at least not taken as often as some others. There are still portions of U.S. 89 that remind one of how the West once was, while there are other portions that have become chic magnets to the rich and famous. Traveling the highway is truly still an adventure, particularly to those willing to meander without a timetable. It’s true that you can ski the slopes used by Olympians along this road or even spot a celebrity or two in some of the more exclusive stops along the way, but you can just as easily watch an eagle swoop for prey or a herd of bison cross a meadow, or you can ride the white water of the Snake or Colorado rivers. It is the American West, in every sense.

Hard-core scenery seekers who want to experience the entire highway might consider starting at its most northern point in mid-September and traversing the length of the highway over three weeks. Not only is that an ideal time to see the leaves turning along the route, but it’s also "shoulder season" -- too late for the summer hordes and too early for the smaller winter skiing crowds. Ending on the southern part of the highway in mid-October also allows the traveler to miss the 100-degree desert heat. The final chapter of this book suggests an itinerary for such a trip.

I have visited every state in the continental United States in the last 20 years, except North Dakota. A white-knuckle flier, I have made most of these visits by car, or sometimes train. I’ve driven the length of both coasts on Interstates 5 and 95, Interstate 10 from Florida to California, Interstates 40, 70, 80 and 90 almost from terminus to terminus, and big north-to-south sections of many others. I’ve meandered backroads in every section of the country, from Florida to New England to the deep South to the Pacific Northwest. During this time, I’ve lived for all but four years near U.S. 89 in Utah and Idaho. I always marvel that the most beautiful spots in my wanderings inevitably can be found within a couple hundred miles of my home along U.S. 89.

There is no dearth of books, pamphlets and even web sites on the national parks and other areas described in this book. But I know of no other place to go that links them, using U.S. 89 as the unifying theme. I’ve had many wonderful experiences wandering the miles on U.S. 89, beginning as a high school senior covering small school sports in the Utah hinterlands as a part-time sports writer. Back then I was more concerned about negotiating the highway in a late-night snowstorm after a basketball game in Gunnison, Utah, than paying attention to the more ethereal aspects of what the highway has to offer. I’ve come to appreciate it in whole different light as an adult.

Nearly a quarter of a century ago I spent a summer on an Idaho ranch. My truck broke down that Fourth of July at the southern entrance to Grand Teton National Park. As I waited for the tow truck to come from Jackson, I was oddly not concerned about the impending repair bill that I could barely afford. Off to the west were the Tetons rising from the valley floor, and all seemed right with the world, other evidence to the contrary notwithstanding.

A few years ago my son, Jeremy, and I were driving a dirt road just off of U.S. 89 near Bryce Canyon when a golden eagle swooped down near our truck and glided with us for a hundred feet or so. Later that day, we spotted a bobcat not far from the same road in the high timber. A couple of springs later, I stood on a roadside with a half-dozen other spectators watching two black bears slide down a snowfield high above us in Glacier National Park. Jeremy, my other son, Brad, and I once spent a glorious three days between Christmas and New Year’s in Havasu Canyon near the Grand Canyon. Family outings to Zion National Park on Sunday afternoons were a common treat when we lived in St. George, Utah. My daughter, Brittany, isn’t exactly a nature enthusiast, but she’s graciously consented to taking the "scenic route" with her dad occasionally instead of going more directly to one destination or another.

I’ve had fresh raspberry milkshakes near Bear Lake, Utah, tacos on the Navajo Reservation in Arizona and sourdough pancakes in Jackson, Wyoming. I’ve hiked hundreds of miles in the six national parks and driven thousands and thousands of miles on the highway itself. And, oh yes, when it came time to remarry, Kathleen said "yes" to my proposal one perfect summer evening as the sun set at Schwabacher Landing in Jackson Hole, less than a mile from U.S. 89. I’ve come to have something of a proprietary feeling about it. I welcome you to join me in experiencing what it has to offer.